Real
by Skylark Evanson
Summary: "Who did this to me?" *Focuses on Roy after the season finale.
1. Real

**A/N: Did this kind of late last night, but I think it turned out great. May turn into a brief series, three or four separate one-shots just to cover everything I want to cover about this concept.**

**Warning: Spoilers for season finale.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

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**Real**

There's a light hiss as the pod opens up and the stasis fluid drains out, spilling onto Cadmus's cold floor.

The limp fifteen-year-old body falls out, right into Kid Flash's arms. "I got him," grunts the speedster to his two comrades, quickly pulling the fellow redhead into his arms and heading back to Robin and Aqualad. "He'll need a lot of time to readjust after three years, but-"

There's a soft whimper from the form in his arms, and the jade eyes fall on the real Roy Harper, taking him in for all he is. Thinner than his elder counterpart, yet his arms (well, arm) is just as defined even after years of doing nothing. His hair is damp, and he looks very vulnerable in his current state, especially with the bandages-

The blue eyes fly open wide, growing wide in panic. "Who are you?" he hisses, gaze narrowing in rage as he then struggles to slip out of Wally's loose grasp; the childish voice (compared to Red Arrow's, at least) is raspy after going unused for so long. He actually does manage to get away, even if it's merely just shoving off the ginger and allowing himself to be dropped on the floor.

Kid Flash has to step back on this one, realizing that he'd never actually met the real Roy Harper. He moves back closer to Kaldur, realizing that only one of them could deal with this properly.

Roy gets to his feet with the one arm he had. Upon trying to reach for his bow with the opposite, he discovers his loss. The weight is all wrong. Azure orbs flitting from his enemies to the lighter extremity, he sees the bandages. He sees the stub. He knows, yet his mind is too foggy to comprehend any of it. He barks out viciously, "Who did this to me?" Desperation and hatred come out of his cry.

Robin steps in. A familiar. "Hey, Speedy, it's me, remember?" he begins slowly, hands out in surrender. He keeps his voice low and gentle; even though Roy's older than him, he knows alarming him further would only create problems.

Just a common presence settles him. "Robin, where's my arm?" he begs, gaze glowing painfully.

"Listen," the Boy Wonder says patiently, "you've been in suspended animation for almost four years. You're body isn't ready for too much movement yet, and KF will carry you to the nearest-"

Tears are actually glistening in his eyes as he growls, "Where's my arm, Robin? Where the heck is my _arm_?"

Kaldur, noticing the sudden lack of control, steps in subtly; he does not wish to alarm the panicked prisoner. "We do not know, Roy, but please, we request that-"

"I can't use my _bow_ if I don't have my _arm_!"

"Roy!" Robin knows how to get through to people. He grabs the teen's shoulders and pulls him in close so that they're glaring at each other, blue-to-blue, one pair hidden behind the domino mask. "Focus for me, okay?" A sharp tone has taken over his words. "It's nearly four years in the future, Speedy. You were taken from Green Arrow and _cloned_. There's a second Roy Harper- Arsenal- walking around. He's been you since you were taken. Arsenal was unaware that he was a clone or that you were still alive." He stares into the older boy's eyes. "Do you understand me?"

A nasty sneer crawls across his grim countenance as a few tears dribble down his cheeks. "I just want my arm back."

He _is_focusing. He's focusing on the one thing he wants most, the simplest thing to understand. Roy Harper can't fathom much beyond that, let alone comprehend the full meaning of it all. He's still trying to figure out when Robin had gotten so tall and when he'd started hanging out with-

His gaze caught on Wally. Some of the harder information leaks through his thick skull. "Is he-"

"No, no," laughs Robin, glancing over his shoulder in time to see Wally's horrified face. "That's Kid Flash. Flash's sidekick."

"Not a sidekick," coughs the green-eyed ginger, indignantly folding his arms across his chest.

"Ro- Arsenal is eighteen years of age. He has aged at the normal rate once stripped of his solar suit, and seeing as you have been in there for a very long time, he is much older." Kaldur's quiet explanation is precise and simple, exactly what Roy needs to hear.

"He... stole my life?" The cerulean gaze hardens in rage.

"He didn't know," defends West, quick to step up to the clone's defense. "He was programmed to believe he was the real Roy. He just found out last year and hasn't stopped searching for you since."

Robin, looking at his fatigued friend, shoots a glance back to the speedster. "KF, I want you to run him to the nearest hospital, get his arm looked at. Make sure they don't ask too many questions and try to field off the worst of the identity stuff. There's gonna be a lot of paperwork after all of this."

Once more, the green-eyed speedster steps up beside his friend. "Come on, Roy," he says. "I'll carry you."

His sullen, distraught gaze falls on the Boy Wonder. "Robin-"

"I'll be there as soon as possible," he promises with a grin. The computer on his wrist lights up, beginning to hack into Cadmus's complex systems. "Aqualad and I are going to see if we can't find your arm."

With lingering reluctance, Roy allows himself to be nestled in Wally's cradling arms for the run. Then Kid Flash takes off like a speeding bullet.

They're about halfway there when Roy pipes up, "Is he a good person? Arsenal?"

Behind the red-tinged goggles, the eyes stay focused ahead. He takes a deep breath and gently says, "Yeah." He even smiles for a moment. "I'd trust him with my life. No matter what."

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**A/N: I'll expand on this with a few more one-shots. I'd really like some feedback.**

**~Sky**


	2. How

**A/N: A second update. Took a while, but I got it done.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own this.**

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**How**

Oliver knows, subconsciously, that it's his fault.

Once upon a day three years ago, his newly adopted son went missing. They'd been on patrol and run into a problem with Mirror Master, but it had been resolved quickly, and yet Roy had disappeared for a few extra hours afterwards.

He wasn't concerned at first, figuring his fellow bowman couldn't have strayed too far. Maybe a pretty girl had caught his eye, or maybe he was unconscious somewhere. And a terrible thought struck: maybe he was trapped in Mirror Master's ghoulish realm of darkness and fake glass doors leading into each other perfectly, a never ending cycle of in and out only to return to the same sickening spot of the black mirror pit.

Oliver hitched up his skirt and got to work, questioning any witnesses and asking for any recollections of a small redhead in a Robin Hood costume. It wasn't like he wore the Dark Knight's colors; Roy shouldn't have been hard to spot in disappearing. Or being kidnapped.

Suddenly the worst scenarios were dawning on him. It'd been a kidnapping. He could be tortured, beaten, held for ransom... or even killed...

That was when his charge appeared again, shaken and cold, but seemingly fine. A handful of sparse bruises spotted his thin, pale arms, and after being asked, the teen couldn't remember what had happened, but what matter was that Speedy had come home safe and sound.

The story that Roy had told was convincing enough: he'd been clubbed upside the head in the mirror dimension and was knocked out for more than an hour or so before waking up and finding himself in a dark room. From there, it was foggy and blurry, passing shapes and shifting colors; any refined details were non-existent. He could only recall that he hated every second of that dark, enclosed space. There was a sharp pain, he could remember that much, and he'd screamed quite a lot. There must've been another black out at some point because his memory was sharp again upon waking up in an alley by the edge of Star City.

He'd been gone a span of four hours.

Queen concluded that there had to be more to it than that, but he pushed that thought down when Roy grabbed onto him for moral support, just hugging his adopted father and letting a stray tear slide down his face. Oliver let his fears give way to worry, and he took his charge home, deciding to comfort his son rather than avenge the issue.

After all, it could be dealt with later.

Three months later, Roy went missing a second time.

Speedy had been on a rooftop, covering the attack from a hawk's vantage point. He was taking the aerial attacks while Green Arrow managed with more of the hand-to-hand work that his protégé had yet to excel at as well as his mentor. This balanced out the playing field, Roy tending to the matters that Oliver couldn't manage on his own. It worked.

It was only ten minutes after his ward had been taken that Oliver noticed there were more and more of the assassin barrage coming at him. His eyes lifted to the rooftop, expecting to see his partner's arrows raining down on the platoon.

There were none.

Adrenaline drove him from there, and he dealt with the rest of the opponents as quickly and effectively as he could, managing to scare the rest of them off with a bit explosive. Because he needed to find Roy. Now.

This time, Green Arrow was barely wandering for an hour when his protégé showed up again, dizzy and confused. There had to be drugs in his system, Oliver assumed, by the way he was walking as if he'd been lying still fleeced. He was awkward and disoriented. The best way to heal this, Oliver found, was to just take him back home.

Approaching the palatial mansion, Roy's eyes widened with delight. It was like he'd never seen it before; this was also brushed off as Queen assumed his charge was just happy to be home. He could only figure his adopted son would be tired and want to get back. It was logical in his mind, and he thought nothing more of it.

The story, this time, was close to nothing. All Roy could remember was waking up in the next city over, wondering how in the Hell he'd gotten so far from Star City. It was strange, really, but what more was there to question?

From then on, life went by normally. Roy would be Roy, Ollie would be Ollie. There were some distinct things in Harper that changed. He seemed more focused, more eager to learn. Everything about him was more directed, trained. There was less protesting and more absorbing as Roy tried to take on the full job of his mentor, eager to become worthy of a title greater than Speedy.

It was brushed off. Roy had always been nothing less than ambitious. How was now any different? Oliver feigned ignorance.

Now it all makes sense to him. The kidnapping was for the DNA. The disappearance was merely a swap.

He's been harboring a clone and a traitor for the past three years. He doesn't quite understand how he missed something so obvious, but the guilt sweeps through him and threatens to choke out his life. Oliver realizes how terrible a father he is, unaware that his real son is probably dead without a headstone or even a proper grave.

Instead, he was given a dangerous clone. He never even knew...

Ollie stands outside of his charge's door quietly, hand raised and ready to rap at the wood to ask for entrance. He sucks in a deep breath and musters up all the courage he can, ready to take on this trauma with a brave face. And Queen knocks.

There's no answer from within; the archer lets himself in. After all, it _is _his house.

Roy is sitting on the edge of his bed. His face is buried in his hands, and the younger archer barely looks up when his mentor makes his way in and shuts the door tightly after entering. "Roy..."

His blue eyes are bloodshot from crying. He hates how weak he feels. It's disgusting. Roy's voice is choked and dry when he asks, "Why didn't you rescue me?"

Queen realizes, with a sickening certainty, that he's talking about the young boy that was kidnapped, the one that this Roy replaced. He runs a hand through his hair and releases a deep sigh. His words are honest and exhausted as he answers, "I didn't know."

Roy looks completely sickened, but he isn't angry. He isn't in a pod. He's got a home, a family, plenty of friends. He may be a clone, but he got the better end of the deal. He's _alive_.

Slowly, the older archer moves to sit beside the young man. He reaches an arm around his charge, and, to Queen's surprise, the redhead leans into him, a child seeking comfort in this sick, twisted world. Oliver gives a faint smile, which fades a few moments later.

It's hard to accept that this isn't the boy he rescued from the Navajo tribe three years ago.

It's even harder to accept that the boy he did save is probably dead.

And it's all his fault.

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**A/N: Review?**

**~Sky**


	3. Chains

**A/N: This was one of the chapters I wanted to write so badly I could taste it. Fought the urge to write it as an extended poem just because FF's formatting system sucks.**

**Disclaimer: Nope, not owning.**

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**Chains**

He's thrown against a table, eyes still bleary from drugs. The voices above him are speaking a gargled language. He can't tell if it's in his head or if it's really like that. Everything is so vague and blurred that he's not sure if he's even conscious.

Quite honestly, he feels like he's in one of Salvador Dali's surreal paintings, dripping clocks and all.

"Keep the source material."

Chains are latched to his wrists, pinning his limp body down. His strength is returning slowly, but he's so weak that he can't even muster enough power to lash out against his captors. All he knows is that the drugs are really keeping him down for the count.

Metal against metal, the taste of steel and copper in the air. Static fills his ears as machines charge up. Memories of countless Frankenstein movies fill his foggy head. The clouds over his eyes are lifting slowly, and he can see a bit more clearly. He's in some sort of cave; stalactites hang over his head like daggers ready to drop from the ceiling. Everything smells musty and dank, and he knows he's underground.

"Make sure you keep him chained. The chloroform will wear off soon."

He's definitely being captured, and this isn't just about something simple. They aren't being careful enough. They're aware he's conscious in some sense and no precautions are being taken yet. This isn't right.

He manages to thrash against his bindings only to hear the clanging of steel. Roy Harper is chained to a metal table, and he can't help but feel like the pig on dissection day. Funny thing is, he's still very much alive. He pulls again, but there's no use: he's not getting out of there any time soon.

"Download his memories."

Sticky probes are stuck to his head and he wishes he could move all of his limbs. His legs are still numb and limp while his arms are awake and ready to tussle. He's barely keeping his eyes open, so fighting against the probes is useless.

But there's a creature over him with cold fingers, attaching the white patches to his face. Horns protrude from his forehead and his eyes glow red like Lucifer's. Roy doesn't breathe for a long moment, terrified of what this _thing_ could do to him. Maybe he's an alien. Maybe he's a monster. Maybe-

"Download starting, sir."

A shock pierces through his system as a needle is jabbed into his inner elbow, and a long howl is ripped from his lips; electricity courses through his body, hundreds of volts searing his veins, skin, nerves…

Just as soon as it started, it ends, leaving his heart beating faster than he ever thought possible. And his brain feels like mush, wondering what the hell's going on, wondering what he did to deserve this, wondering how he even got here…

"Upload it into the new body."

Roy swallows hard, praying for it all to be over soon. He's not sure how much more of this he can take, this enduring, this suffering. Where's Ollie? Why hasn't his guardian come to rescue him? He's fighting back tears of confusion and misery, hoping that he'll survive long enough to escape. The pain is still racking his body, but it's lessening every second.

The sound of wheels to his right catches his ear, and he forces himself with his last bit of strength to look that way, hoping to see some kind of messiah standing there, ready to take him away from the mess he'd fallen into-

"New body upload starting now, sir."

He's staring at himself. There is no mirror. There is no messiah.

Roy can't believe his eyes, and his heart begins pounding harder again as he quickly thrashes against the chains some more, desperate to get away. He's in a chamber that Harper can only assume is cryogenic. The body is still and motionless, but above its head are three beasts who remind him a bit of the creature that hung over him earlier.

"Upload complete, sir."

No. He won't stay there a second longer. Roy pulls at his chains as hard as he can, feeling the metal tear at his flesh and make his wrists bleed. The young archer reaches out for anything that he can get ahold of and tries to throw it or stab it, something, anything, he needs to get out, needs to escape-

A hissing sound echoes from where his doppelganger is being held hostage, and the boy steps out of the chamber, looking into the real world for the first time with his own two blue eyes.

"Tend to the source material, Speedy."

Without hesitation, the duplicate does as instructed and reaches to one side of his pod and picks up Roy Harper's bow and Roy Harper's quiver. Already, the real Roy can tell what's going on. He was _used_.

The sound of the string being drawn back is right in his ear and he thinks he's going to die. He doesn't want to die, there's so much he wanted to do with his life yet.

_Twang!_

The bow's string sings out like a bird and pain immediately stabs Roy right in the arm where the arrow has pierced his right bicep, ripping the muscle and definitely injuring the bone to the point of at least a serious fracture. Yet maybe-

He pulls against this new wound only to feel another arrow embed itself in his arm. Another round of agony slices through his whole body, his arm feeling like it's on fire, but a plan is already calculated in his mind, already working to be pulled off cleanly.

"What's the brat doing?"

Roy struggles more and feels a third arrow slice right into him. The pain is practically unbearable, but he's forcing himself to suffer through it so maybe a few more moments of life can be savored, even if they're in pain and misery. The bone is definitely broken now; the point-blank range has ensured it. He pulls hard on that arm, making sure to use his shoulder rather than his wrist and elbow-

His arm comes clean off right at the bicep. A howl is released from his dry lips and he's free. His legs aren't chained down, but they are still numb. He manages to move them, at least, even if there's no feeling there. Roy's fast to fight through the pain and stand up, keeping his balance on the icy metal table. As soon as he realizes it's on wheels, he's moving, using it like a walker to keep his balance while running on jelly-like legs.

"Get him!"

The thundering of footsteps rings out behind him, loud and angry.

Swiftly, the archer makes his way towards what he can only assume is a door only to find that it won't open with just a push-

_Twang!_

An arrow catches his leg, right in the calf. Roy drops, unable to support himself even with the table's help. He's just lucky the clone didn't touch an artery.

The footsteps are surrounding him now as people fight to push him onto a table and two sets of hands hold him down, one pair belonging to a man in a labcoat with glasses, the other to the horned creature.

"Patch him up and then pod him."

Something is injected into his arm again and his body goes limp; Roy's barely able to open his eyes. He feels people prodding at his leg and arm, and he can only assume by the labcoat's orders that they're fixing him up. Maybe they're going to set him free after all…

Then his table is being moved towards the pod and hands are on his body, lifting him towards the chamber that his doppelganger just stepped out of. He's being pushed inside with brute force. Roy forces his eyes open and sees his clone shoving him inside the pod.

"Goodnight, brother."

The doors hiss shut. Smoke floods into the space.

Unconsciousness slams into him, and all the pain is suddenly gone.

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**A/N: Review?**

**~Sky**


	4. Two

**A/N: Been a while since I updated. Jumping on it right now. I built this off the first chapter rather than canon, so I'm sorry, but I didn't want to change it after I'd written the first chapter.**

**Disclaimer: No, I really don't own. Bite me.**

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**Two**

The door hissed open, leaving two people, one in the same, staring eye-to-eye through the tense air. One was thin, lean, and certainly older. The other, over the years, had remained strong in stasis and was missing one arm.

On one side, behind the original, stood three heroes, all of them good and true. Wally West. Dick Grayson. Kaldur'ahm. Each wore a smile, thin and wan. None had thought they'd see the day when the two would meet. Truly, they'd thought the younger was dead all this time.

The older (at least in physical years) stood tall. His arms were scrawny, his eyes dull and lifeless. Everything about him was weak and exhausted. For five years, he'd been searching for this kid, this poor little thing who he'd stolen life from; now, he'd finally found peace. The search for Speedy was over.

The smaller grinned, and it was a positively elated smile. No regret hid in his blue eyes, no sorrow lingering on his features. He didn't seem bothered in the slightest, just excited, honest. Surprisingly enough, he was the first to move forward, showing no fear. After all, this man was just him. An older version of himself, and eight years could change someone, but not after all he- they- had been through.

Wally was the first one to make a whispered joke. He jabbed Dick in the ribs and murmured, "Five bucks says one of 'em cries." Silent agreement was held in a nod.

"How's life treated you?" asked the original, looking up to his elder with bright blue eyes, innocent and pure. "Just so I know what I'm up against. A lot's changed, but maybe I can at least scrape up a few pointers."

Hollowed eyes, sunken features, and tired mind analyzed this new form, this fresh body, this simple child. No words would come. He was too awestruck by the fact that this one had a do-over. He could live a free life, no burdens or boundaries. He was free to be the Roy Harper that Red Arrow could never be. This was a fresh start, one he hoped his counterpart wouldn't screw up. Not the way he had.

He was so sweet, even. Roy couldn't remember being like that. Had he ever been so small and kind? Probably not. Programming and all. But maybe in his memories, the implanted ones, maybe there was some sense of who he was before in those… Maybe some kindness of heart existed there, before he was a cruel marauder…

"Clones can talk, right?" laughed the younger Harper, his head cocked to one side in a questioning way. "I've already met Conner and he could talk." His brows furrowed for a moment before he added on, "Well, he grunted and sighed more than anything, but I think he said a few words at one point…"

Childlike. Soft. Fragile, yet stronger than him in every way. Morally correct, boundaries intact, laughter in his eyes…

God, he'd stolen Roy Harper's _life_.

Yes, he was a cheap knockoff. Yes, he was a weapon. Yes, he'd betrayed his friends and the League. Yes, he was a rude, selfish bastard with absolutely no moral code. Yes, he was all of that and plenty more. Even after all these years of wanting to be the original, he'd grown worse, darker, more dangerous. And where was he now? The realization sunk in that he shouldn't be mad that he was something volatile and repulsive: he should be mad because he stole a precious life from someone who really and truly deserved it.

"Is- Is he okay?" asked Roy, looking over his shoulder at his two saviors, two of the men who had actually come to his rescue. On the clone's orders, but they were the first to pull him out, to get him to safety, to patch him up. A bit of concern laced his cerulean orbs and the teen felt uncomfortable in his clone's presence all of a sudden, like this man couldn't fathom the fact that he wasn't real.

When he was. He was real. Completely real.

Just not the original.

The clone finally broke, his psyche finally shattering. He fell to his knees and grabbed Roy about the waist in a tight, unbreakable hug. "I'm sorry," he whispered, leaning into the teen. Tears escaped, no domino mask to hide them here. "I'm so sorry, Roy."

Smiling, the younger just looked down softly at his duplicate. "It's not your fault," he said with a sad sort of laugh. "You didn't do this to me. _They_ did. Cadmus." His new friends had sort of explained everything that had happened to make him the way he was. "It's not your fault, Roy."

Eyes squeezed shut, he began to breathe words. "Thank you for giving me my friends and and my family and my daughter and this incredible… this incredible life…" Roy had never asked for it, never even wanted it, but he'd been given the greatest gift of all and had wasted five years of it trying to regain a past life. Had it been worth it? "Thank you. For everything you've allowed me to have."

He laughed. _Laughed_. (Even beyond the Roys, Wally and Dick shared a look, wondering when in the world Roy had ever been so carefree… Dick also handed over five bucks.) "I didn't give it to you, but I'm glad you get to enjoy yourself outside of a pod." When the clone looked up at him with the most heartbroken, pitiful eyes, the teen just said, "Now seriously, I want some pointers. They said you went pretty nuts in the last five years, so what should I _not_ do?"

Forcing a smile, the easy answer came. "Date assassins. They're bad news."

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**A/N: Fin.**

**Review and thanks for reading!**

**~Sky**


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